


Whumptober 2020 02 Alt 11 Presumed Dead

by frankie_mcstein



Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, Airplane Crash, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Presumed character death, Secret Relationship, Whumptober 2020, other characters pop up too - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26769901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankie_mcstein/pseuds/frankie_mcstein
Summary: Whumptober 2020 02 (Alternative prompt 11)- Presumed DeadHe was gone. Just like that. He was gone and she hadn't told him.
Relationships: Juliet Higgins/Thomas Sullivan Magnum IV
Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947172
Comments: 34
Kudos: 89





	Whumptober 2020 02 Alt 11 Presumed Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2 and the first alternative prompt I have used for Whumptober!

_ He hugged her tightly, not liking the sad look on her face that she was trying desperately to hide. _

_ “It’s only for a few days,” he murmured into her hair, feeling her nod against his chest. “Just until everything is settled.” _ __   
_   
_ __ “I know. And I don’t want you thinking about me while you’re over there.” He had to strain his ears a little to hear her; she didn’t move away from his embrace. “Your family needs you.” Her hands tightened slightly, as if trying to stop him from leaving even as she was telling him it was fine for him to go.

_ “A week at the most,” he promised, returning the force of her grip without really knowing why she was holding him so tightly but happy to assume she was just unhappy about being separated from him so soon after they finally started their relationship. _

_ They stood for a moment longer, holding each other, one of them thinking of the day they would see each other again with anticipation and the other with something approaching dread. _

…

Rain was lashing down viciously, almost assaulting the ground as the drops actually bounced with the force of their landing. The trees were creaking with the wind as it grabbed their branches and tugged hard. Higgins hugged the coffee Rick handed her with an absent sort of smile of thanks, not making a move actually drink it.

“How much longer?” She didn’t notice the knowing look that Rick and T.C. exchanged, twins smiles quickly being hidden, before Rick sat down next to her.

“His plane only took off a couple hours ago, Jules.” 

They had all been at the airport to wave Magnum off. The call saying his uncle had suffered a stroke had come early that morning; it was only thanks to Higgins’ bank account that he’d been able to afford to catch a flight at such short notice. The weather had been turning even as he’d been throwing clothes into a carry-on bag. They’d been worried for a while the flight would be cancelled, stranding him on the island until the following day. But his plane had taken off without even a delay, leaving his three friends to head back to the estate through the driving rain and wait for Magnum to call to say he’d landed safely.

Higgins was trying to hide the fact that she was worried, but she was getting more distracted as time went on. The fact that the weather was getting worse wasn’t helping, but she kept telling herself weather moved in systems, that Magnum’s flight would have cleared the worst of the weather ages ago, that, at most, they would have experienced a little turbulence. She ignored the way Rick and T.C. kept smirking at each other over her head, knowing they thought she was far more worried than a business partner would be and being just a little too worried to care.

So, when T.C.'s phone rang, she nearly jumped out of her skin even as he turned away to answer it. Closing her eyes, she made a conscious decision to drop her shoulders, trying to force her body to let go of some of the tension that had been building since… Well, for a while now. She very carefully avoided thinking about anything else, telling herself she needed to relax. Even as the mantra was playing through her head, she opened her eyes again.

_ 'Breathe and release,'  _ she told herself.  _ 'Breathe and release. Breathe and…' _

The TV, playing quietly to itself this whole time, suddenly drew her attention. Whatever had been on, some asinine weather report with an older woman pointing to various maps of Oahu, she thought, had suddenly been replaced by an earnest young man with an expression of professional tension on his face. The volume was too low for her to make out exactly what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. As Rick was fumbling for the remote and T.C., phone call forgotten, was insisting he needed to turn the volume up, the words were scrolling across the bottom of the screen.

‘Flight 828 from Honolulu to Chicago missing.’

The letters were a stark white on a dark background. Thick, uppercase, screaming for the attention of everyone watching.

‘Plane vanishes from radar.’

The young man was talking, the volume bar on the side of the screen telling Higgins she should be able to hear him, but there was nothing in her ears except an odd ringing. Flight 828 was missing. The flight she had managed to get a ticket for. The ticket Magnum had been so grateful to her for.

‘Weather hampering search teams.’

The ringing in her ears was getting worse, and her eyes were starting to burn. And all she could think was,  _ ‘Now he’ll never know.’ _

…

He’d never been bothered by bumpy flights before and had tried to simply ignore the turbulence. He’d told himself it was normal, the storm would ease up as they left the area, but the bad weather had seemed to follow them. He’d noticed with increasing concern the tightness on the faces of the crew, the way the steward had kept leaning over to double check the trolleys were locked in place, the way the stewardess had kept tugging at the seatbelt on her chair. He’d tried to look down through the window with the ridiculous hope of being able to work out roughly where they were, but all he’d been able to see was dark clouds.

And then the plane had lurched, as if grabbed by a giant hand and yanked downward. His head had flown forward, slammed into the back of the chair in front of him, and blood had started dripping from his nose. Another sudden, gut-churning twist had sent his head crashing into the window he had just been peering out of, and his vision blacked out as the woman sitting next to him screamed.

...

They had all reached out to various sources, begging for updates. They learnt that the plane had gone wildly off course. It was suspected that it had spiralled into the ocean. Then, hours later, they were told there were no sightings, nothing for the search teams to go on. 

Searching for a debris field, that had been the worst. The implication that they weren’t expecting to find survivors. In a way, it would have been better to be an average citizen. The official word was simply that a search was underway. The friends and relatives of the other passengers had no idea how grim the reality of the situation was looking.

And then T.C.’s cell rang. Rick and Higgins listened idly, knowing good news would have flashed up on the news station that was still playing and wondering what bad news could be left to hear.

"What?" T.C.'s voice had taken on a terrible, strained tone.

Rick jumped to his feet, Higgins right behind him. Whatever was being said over the phone, it wasn’t just bad, it was earth-shattering.

"That can't be right." T.C.'s whole body was straight and tight, like he was waiting for an order to engage a hostile. His fingers were tight on the suddenly flimsy looking plastic case of his cell. "Please…" But whatever he was about to beg for, the words dried up suddenly.

Higgins took a step closer to Rick, relieved when he didn't move away. Every instinct she had was screaming at her, a vague sense of panic starting to build beneath the unbearable feeling of unease that seemed to be clawing at her throat. She took her eyes off T.C. long enough to see that Rick was reacting the same way; his eyes were wide and fixed on his friend's back.

When T.C. ended the call and turned back to them, they could see shock and fear on his face, tears building in his eyes. Higgins felt her heart lurch in her chest as Rick reached out blindly and took her hand in his. They both knew what T.C. was about to say; they were just waiting to hear the words to make it official.

T.C.'s voice was a quiet, awful parody of its usual self. "It’s not a rescue mission anymore.”

He didn't need to say anything else. He took a step towards Rick and Higgins, and Rick stepped forward to meet him. They hugged each other as the all too familiar pain of losing a brother washed over them. Rick tried to keep his grip on Higgins, but she let go, dropped his hand.

She didn't walk away, but she didn't join their embrace either. She stood and watched them offer what comfort they could to each other, longed to step forward and be wrapped in their arms, but she couldn't move. And, if she was perfectly honest, she wasn't sure they would care about comforting her once they found out that she…

She felt something on her cheek and raised her hand, ignoring the way Rick's fingers were still reaching for her. The liquid on her fingertips surprised her; she hadn't realised she was crying. Maybe that would explain the sudden pounding in her head and the churning in her stomach. She tried to catch her breath, couldn’t, gasped for air, and felt the world tip. There was a pressure on her stomach, and she looked down, feeling every muscle and sinew protest the movement, to see she had wrapped her arms around herself.

There was a noise, dim and distant, somewhere beyond the sudden, aching void that was cracking open in her chest. Her eyes moved away from the sight of her own hands pressing against her stomach, dragging her head up with them. Two faces swam into view, both looking devastated and scared. Something moved, something outside of her range of vision, and she tried to track it, not sure what was important, or dangerous, and what wasn’t.

_ ‘The plane taking off in the rain didn’t seem important.’ _ Her mind was unbearably loud after the seconds- minutes? years? -of silence that had wrapped itself around her, and she flinched. The faces she was still staring at flinched too, and she suddenly, finally, realised the movement was T.C. reaching out to her.

_ ‘The ‘boarding now’ announcements all changing to ‘cancelled’ as you left the airport didn’t seem important.’ _ It was like a scream only she could hear, accusatory and strident and terrifying. Because it was Magnum’s voice that was playing through her head. Magnum, who had been so grateful to her for buying his ticket. Magnum, who had only meant to be away for a few days. Magnum, who was the…

Her knees twitched, her feet carried her forwards, her hands moved from her waist to hang in mid-air. For a moment, a fraction of the gap that hangs between seconds, she thought she was imagining the movement. That she was locked in an absurd tableau, moving but frozen. And then warmth wrapped around her fingers, her shoulders, her back. Heat, living and vital, sank into her chilled skin, chasing away the feeling of frozen impossibility that had gripped her.

“It’ll be okay, Jules.” Rick’s voice was full of pain, but she relaxed a little as she heard it.

“We’ll get through it together, Higgy Baby.” T.C. sounded almost dubious of his own words, but she managed to breathe as he spoke.

She wasn’t alone this time. When Richard had been killed, she’d been on her own. When the two serious men in their dark suits had offered their business-like commiserations, she’d been on her own. When she had fallen to the kitchen floor, sobbed her heartbreak to the uncaring laminate, lost an entire day locked inside her own head, knowing nothing but soul-destroying pain, she had been on her own. But this time, she had her boys. The pain was there, as real and as suffocating as before. The anger, the fear, the disbelief, the longing to somehow make everything just stop - it was there, the same as before. But Rick and T.C. were there too. They would be there for her. They would need her. And she and her…

Her mind cut off the thought, shuddering to a halt.

_ ‘Just breathe,’ _ it whispered, sounding tired and a little scared.  _ ‘For now, it’s enough to just stand here, holding them, being held by them, and just breathe.’ _

...

He’d woken up to the smell of fire and an oddly muted sound washing over him. It was almost pleasant, and he’d made a note to send Robin a quick message thanking him for the fire pit.

“Help!”

A small frown had furrowed his brow, but he hadn’t cared to think too hard about the noise. Kids playing on the beach. Or Rick pretending to be scared of Zeus and Apollo as they chased him along the lawn.

“Please!”

Sobbing? That hadn’t seemed right, and he had forced his eyes to open. The pain had flown into him, crushing his lungs for one terrifying second. And then he had jerked back to reality. He’d looked around wildly, remembering in a rush of breathless adrenaline the way the plane had seemed to be dropping out of the air.

Water. It had taken a second longer than he would have liked to realize the plane had broken up. His little section had somehow still been floating, but, given the way the water seemed to be creeping up his legs, he hadn’t expected that to last for long. He’d taken the length of a heartbeat to gather himself, to assure himself that the crash couldn’t have happened all that long ago and that meant there was a slight chance he didn’t have a concussion. Then he got to work.

The woman who had been sat next to him had vanished, the large bloodstain on her chair leaving him in little doubt as to her condition. But someone somewhere had been calling for help. He was a SEAL, he was trained for this, he could help. He had to. So he’d wrestled with the buckle on his seatbelt, slipped into the water, made the conscious decision to ignore the firey pain in his chest and the way moving his leg made his vision waver, and struck out in the direction of the voice.

He’d ended up with a small group of survivors, some clinging to the flotation device cushions that he had managed to snag as he’d travelled through the debris field, some swimming on their own. A quick glance around had revealed a small smudge on the horizon, and they had all headed for it, following him blindly, content to be given orders by a man who seemed to know what he was doing.

Somewhere along the way, his pain had been replaced by fear, fear that he was leading these people towards a low-lying cloud bank. But then he had noticed the movement of the waves and his fear had been replaced by determination. It wasn’t much- a little beach, some trees, a few rocky outcrops- but it would do. It had to do.

After they had rested for a few hours, tried their best to patch each other up, stopped shaking and crying, they had started asking about survival.

“It’ll be cold at night, but it’ll probably be easier to huddle together and build a fire than to try to build shelters,” he’d told them, ignoring his headache, the tightness in his chest, the throbbing in his leg. “We need food and water.”

That had been about an hour ago. One of the women, amazingly, a nurse, had gone around them all and made a small pile of items they all thought might be useful. Four of them had gone scavenging and found drift wood on the leeside of their little island. And now, three of the others were wading out into the shallow water, fishing lines and nets made from torn and twisted pantyhose hanging from their fingers. He closed his eyes.

_ “Are we really gonna do this?” _

_ “Yes. As soon as you get back.” _

He smiled at the memory, even as the thought of her voice made his chest constrict painfully. He’d only meant to leave her for a few days, maybe a week at the most. Now, he didn’t know that he would ever see her again.

He tried to hold on to the memory, to the smell of her perfume, light and sweet, the warmth of her skin, the exact shade of her eyes. But he didn’t know if he would get back to her, and he did know that a few strands of nylon weren’t going to keep them all from starving, and he let the memory slip away. He opened his eyes again, hating, just for an instant, the sight of the sun, the ocean, the sand. Then he pushed the feeling down. He didn’t have the energy to waste on pointless emotions. Or self-indulgent trips down memory lane.

He waded into the water, his own pathetic excuse for a fishing line wound around the fingers of his left hand. He needed to get to work.

…

Officially, the passengers were listed as ‘missing, status unknown.’ And they all tried to be hopeful, they really did. They told each other and themselves that he was well-trained, highly experienced, had more lives than a damn cat. But they had all suffered so much loss already, knew the pain of it so intimately, that they all privately felt that holding on to hope was just delaying the inevitable.

This wasn’t a kidnapping where he was still on Oahu somewhere, just waiting to be found. Or a misadventure out at sea where he was in his element or had access to a convenient life raft. Or even a desperate flight through a jungle with an international terrorist on his tail. This time, they couldn’t track him down, follow him, rescue him. His plane had fallen out of the sky, and he had gone where none of them could follow.

There may have been time for him to brace for the inevitable impact. To listen to a word of advice shouted over the P.A. system by the pilot or a scared airline steward. He might have had enough time to think of them all, of the people who would never see him again. Maybe he might have spent those precious few seconds wishing his flight had been delayed. But what he wouldn’t have had time to do was anything of any use. Go through the supplies on the plane, break into the cargo hold, find something to help him survive.

He wouldn’t have had the chance to somehow build himself a parachute (and, they all knew, he would have given it to someone else even if he had). There hadn’t even been time for the pilot to call more than “Mayday! Mayday! Flight 828…” before the signal had cut off, so there certainly hadn’t been time for Magnum to figure out where they were and find a safe place to head. Especially because he would first have had to figure out a way to survive the crash landing.

So, while they wanted desperately to be optimistic, they couldn’t cling to their hope. They clung, instead, to each other. Higgins’ extreme reaction to the news had frightened Rick and T.C. enough that they hadn’t even thought of leaving her alone that night. They had moved to the guest house at some point, as if drawn there; they hadn’t discussed it, just walked down. Kumu had joined them after a friend had called her with the news that the authorities were looking for wreckage rather than survivors. Katsumoto had knocked on the door a while later, after the news broke on the local channels.

The five of them had sat in silence for over an hour. No one wanted to be the first to leave; no one could think of anything to say. The official statement had mentioned things like the bad weather and apparent mechanical failure. It had made a big deal of the abruptness of the issues. Assured people there was no reason to suspect foul play. As much as they hated it, no one could figure out any sort of way to argue against what was being said. ‘It was just one of those things,’ said the news, and they had no choice but to accept it.

Katsumoto had been the first to go that night; Dennis had seen the passenger manifest online and recognised his dad’s friend among the names. He’d called to offer his sympathies and asked his dad if he wanted to get a coffee. Katsumoto had actually started to refuse. It was Higgins who shook her head and whispered that he should go. That Magnum would never want to be the reason Gordon missed spending time with his son. She’d choked a little on the words, tears flooding her eyes. She hadn’t managed to return the goodbye he’d offered them all.

Kumu had gone a few hours later; her eldest nephew was expecting his first child and called in a panic to say his wife was in labour over a month early. She had actually apologised to them all as she had grabbed her bag. Someone had said something in response, some well-meaning but mindless words. It was Rick who had asked her to call when the baby was born, assuring her that everything would be fine without actually saying the words ‘it’ll be okay.’ Because the last time he had said that, just a few hours previously, he had been holding Higgins as she shook, and he’d known it had been a lie.

The three of them had sat there a while longer, still silent, without even the news to keep them company. Surprisingly, it was Higgins who had fallen asleep first. She’d slumped against Rick, face still pale, but looking relaxed as sleep smoothed away the signs of the fear that seemed to have gripped her at the thought of living her life without Magnum. T.C. carefully lifted her off Rick’s side and eased her down onto the cushions, Rick had grabbed a blanket to drape over her, and the two of them made themselves comfortable in the chairs, feeling their bodies screaming out for rest but having no intention of leaving.

And when Higgins had woken the next morning, she seemed to have decided that life was going to go on even without Magnum. She had been in the kitchen making coffee when T.C. woke up. He’d accepted the cup she’d offered him gladly. When Rick joined them, she had tried to offer to make pancakes. The words had faltered and taken her charade with them; for a second or two, she was desperately lost and terribly afraid. 

But she’d recovered quickly, pushing aside whatever memory the idea of pancakes had raised, and, if either Rick or T.C. noticed her wiping her eyes, they didn’t call her on it. They'd all tried to eat their breakfast, tried to drink their hot drinks, tried to imagine that this was their new normal. 

That was three days ago; Rick was desperately needed back in La Mariana, and T.C. had tours waiting to go up. So they had gone to their own beds that night and gone to work that morning.

Rick hardly even glanced at his cell when the first text came through, too busy with the lunch crowd. He raised an eyebrow at the second chime, sounding while he was pouring drinks, and then promptly forgot about the messages waiting to be read in the face of an angry customer.

It wasn't until his phone chimed again, pulling his attention away from a menu issue, that he grabbed for it and saw the latest text was from T.C.

_ 'Are you at the hospital yet?' _

Rick quickly read the other two messages, both from Higgins.

_ 'Kumu is insisting I tell you that I got a bit dizzy earlier.'  _

Then, a few minutes later,  _ 'She panicked and called an ambulance. I'm heading to A and E. Will probably be home by the time you get this.' _

Rick dialed T.C. as he grabbed his keys and ran out to his car.

"What's going on?" he demanded as soon as T.C. answered.

_ "I dunno yet. I just got here, and Higgy is still with the doctor." _

Rick had driven pretty fast in his life, usually when someone else was in trouble. He was perfectly used to putting his foot down and focusing on the road in front of him. What he wasn't used to was firing up the ignition, blinking, and finding himself at his destination without any memory of the journey. He sat with the engine idling for a few seconds, his mind blank as it tried to process what had just happened, how dangerous it had been for him to be behind the wheel when he was so obviously distracted.

Then his phone chirped at him, and his mind suddenly caught up with where he was and reminded him why he was there.

_ 'Dr just came out but won't tell me what's wrong. Where are you?!' _

Rick didn't even bother replying, just yanked the keys out of the ignition and ran for the doors. He spotted T.C. standing by a bench, looking between two sets of doors, and hurried over, calling out as he did.

"Hey, what kept you?"

"The bar was crazy. Where's Jules?"

T.C. frowned. "She was taken up to a room. Doc seemed to think she'd be discharged tomorrow, but he said something about tests." He gave Rick a look, one that said he was worried but trying not to overreact. “Kumu’s with her now, but she had to leave when the doctor went in.”

Rick nodded; so Kumu didn’t know what was wrong either. He carefully stopped his mind from racing. Higgins would be fine. They weren’t about to lose her so soon after losing Tommy. She was fine. He kept repeating it over and over as he and T.C. walked down to the private room she had been admitted to. The words faltered in his head when he saw her. She was sitting up in the bed, her face achingly pale, and it was obvious she had been crying.

She turned to look at them as they walked in but didn’t say anything. Rick and T.C. both stopped just inside the door, expecting her to start explaining what the doctor had told her. Or to beckon them closer to the bed. Instead, she stared at them, eyes wide and frightened, and they both felt a rush of fear.

Kumu reached out and took one of Higgins’ hands in both of hers, squeezing gently. “It’ll be okay, Juliet,” she soothed, rubbing her thumb over the cold hand she was holding and smiling encouragingly when Higgins turned to look at her. “Start by telling us what the doctor said, and we can go from there.” 

The three of them watched with churning stomachs as Higgins closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, obviously steeling herself. Rick and T.C. finally moved closer as she dropped her head and breathed out in a long sigh.

“I’m pregnant.” Her eyes were open again but staring fixedly at the thin blanket that had been pulled over her. She very carefully didn’t look at any of the faces around her, not wanting to see if they looked happy for her. Because the baby wasn’t the full story.

“Jules… Did you just find out?”

She shook her head, still not letting her eyes leave the loose thread they were fixed on. “No. I’ve known for a few days now. I’m over a month along.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Rick sounded a little giddy, like he was thrilled and trying not to show it. 

Higgins let her eyes close again, not wanting to tell them anything else but knowing that, even if no one else deserved to hear the full story, Rick and T.C. needed to. She froze for a second before managing to find her voice.

“I thought I should tell the father first. Had a plan to, in fact. But that won’t be happening anymore.” She just kept right on looking at the blanket, following the twist of the thread over and over. She didn’t see the anger on the faces of her friends as they all started to think of deadbeat dads and men taking advantage of their friend.

“Why not, Higgy Baby? Why won't you tell him?” T.C.’s voice was so soft, so gentle, so exactly what she needed at that moment, that Higgins didn’t even think.

She lifted her gaze without even meaning to, looked at him with tears in her eyes, and said, “Because he was killed in a plane crash three days ago.”

…

Thinking about the people he had left behind was keeping Magnum sane. Telling himself he was going to get back to them was keeping him going. He needed to stay alive and get rescued so he could sit in La Mariana and steal Rick’s beer again. He needed to get back to Oahu so he could cajole T.C. into cooking his famous hot wings again. He needed to walk into the guest house and see Juliet waiting for him so they could turn to their friends, their ohana, and tell everyone they were together.

Oh, he was looking forward to that. He was sure Rick and T.C. had a bet going over how much longer it was going to take for one of them to realize how they felt and was looking forward to telling them they had already been a ‘thing’ for almost a month. He wondered if there was a side bet on who would make the first move and really couldn’t wait to tell them that story.

_ “Thomas? Can I ask you something?” _

_ “Sure.” _

_ “Are you actually flirting with me? Or is this just how you talk to women?” _

_ “I uh… No. I’m… I’m flirting with you. Or, rather, uh, I’m trying to flirt with you.” _

_ “Good.” _

He grinned at the memory of the smile he had seen when he’d turned to look at her. And of the kiss that had followed. Their cheating husband had escaped, taking his girlfriend and leaving the motel without either of them noticing. And that was that. All of a sudden, without any real warning, they had gone from partners to  _ partners _ in the blink of an eye. He had no idea why Juliet had suddenly decided the time was right. He was just glad she had.

And now he just needed to stay alive long enough to be found so he could get back to her. And if he managed to keep the other survivors of the plane crash alive too, that would just be the icing on the cake. And that made him think of the trenches they had dug in the hopes of producing potable water. It was a simple procedure involving the waterproof materials from the lifejackets a few of them had grabbed, a few hastily built berms, and a lot of hope. He wasn’t entirely sure his grasp of the science behind it all was perfect, and he had worked hard to hide his uncertainty from the others, but he and Nuzo had done it once just for the heck of it. It had worked just fine that time, and it seemed to be working just fine now.

He pulled himself upright, noticing the dizziness passed quicker, that the complaints from his leg seemed to be getting quieter, and headed to the nearest berm to collect the water. They really could do with more, but they just didn’t have the supplies. It would be fine. They would manage until someone spotted the smoke from their fire. They wouldn’t be the most hydrated bunch of people, but they would be alive.

…

Higgins had explained the whole ‘keeping the relationship a secret’ while they had been waiting for her discharge papers.

“I was scared of what I would lose if it all ended badly,” she’d told them. “Thomas wanted to shout it from the rooftops, but I was just so afraid of losing everyone I care about. And then I found out about the baby and…” She had looked wretched, guilt written over her face, and refused to meet any of their gazes. “I was so scared,” she’d whispered. “I knew I needed to tell him before we told anyone we were together; I didn’t want him thinking I had trapped him.”

Rick and T.C. had both nearly snorted at that; the idea that Magnum would have objected to spending the rest of his life with Higgins and surrounded by babies was absurd. But she went on before either of them could say anything.

“I told him before he left that, when he got back, we should tell everyone about us. I thought it would give him time to think about whether he really wanted that or not. And, as soon as I picked him up at the airport, I was going to tell him I was pregnant and ask him if he still wanted to tell you all.”

From the looks on their faces, everyone in the room, not just Rick and T.C. but Katsumoto, Kumu, and Shammy, all knew that Magnum’s response would have been a resounding yes.

Everyone had assured Higgins they would be there for her, for whatever she needed. Kumu had offered to take her shopping for maternity clothes- “When you need them, of course, which won’t be for a while yet.” Shammy had pronounced himself a dab hand with a paint roller- “When you know which room you’re turning into a nursery.” Katsumoto had offered his ex-wife’s number- “She wasn’t great at being my wife, but she’s a wonderful mother.” And Rick and T.C. had both appointed themselves honorary uncles and unofficial godfathers.

What none of them could do was help her feel refreshed when she woke up in the morning. Or stop her worrying about how she was going to cope with actually giving birth. Or make her believe that she was going to do a great job as a single parent. Or convince her that she didn’t need to feel guilty about not telling Magnum before he left. Or stop her from missing him so much that it caused her physical pain. Of course, they were all feeling that. And it hadn’t been all that long really.

The shock of the various pieces of news, the plane crash, the relationship, the pregnancy, it all combined to make everyone feel it had been months rather than days since they had lost Magnum. And these last few days, with everyone trying to manage their grief and rally around Higgins, had somehow both dragged unbearably and flown by with astonishing speed.

And now T.C. was watching with concerned eyes as Higgins’ head dropped a little before she lifted it back up. Her eyes were dull, and she looked exhausted. It was like finally telling everyone she was pregnant and being assured by an ultrasound and a battery of blood tests that there was nothing wrong with her baby had given the pregnancy full rein to wreak havoc on her, and she was struggling just to keep her eyes open. The vulnerability of falling asleep in public, surrounded by La Mariana's lunch crowd, was possibly the only reason she hadn't already nodded off.

“Late night?" T.C. asked quietly, more in the hopes of getting her talking than out of any real suspicion that she hadn't gone to bed. He pursed his lips a little at the attempt she made to smile; it was weak and tiny, like she didn't even have the energy to tug her lips upward.

"I feel sick when I lie down. I got an hour or so in the chair, but then my neck started to ache."

T.C. felt a rush of sympathy that made his chest hurt. It wasn't the same situation, not by any stretch of the imagination, but after a particularly brutal few days in the camp where he had been hogtied, released only to be beaten, then forced back into the agonizing stress position again, he hadn't been able to lay his body flat. Or sit against the wall. His mind and body had both been begging for sleep, but his throbbing, burning muscles and screaming nerves had kept him awake. Until Nuzo had figured out they could prop T.C. up between them. He'd slept like the dead for nearly an entire day, held up by his brothers. 

There was no doubt in his mind that, if Magnum were still with them, Higgins would have had a decent night's sleep curled up on his shoulder. He may not have slept too well, just like he and Rick and Nuzo didn't sleep while they were holding T.C., the odd positions they'd all been forced to adopt making their own bodies ache. But, just like in the camp, it wouldn't have mattered. 

With that thought in mind, he shifted a little closer to Higgins. Her eyes were more than half closed again, and T.C. reached across her and gently cupped her cheek, pulling her head to his side. She shifted slightly, just the once, her shoulder rubbing against his ribs as her body moved instinctively towards the heat it could feel. One long exhale that he could only just hear over the chattering of the customers, one tiny flex of her fingers, and then she was fast asleep. 

T.C.'s stomach gave an unhappy rumble, reminding him that there was food going cold on the table in front of him. And the dry feeling in his throat made him look at the drink getting warm even with the air conditioning. But, if there was a chance his moving might disturb Higgins, he wasn't going to risk it. T.C. didn't move to grab the plate or the glass. He'd promised Higgins he would be there for her, whenever she needed him and for whatever reason, and he wasn't about to fall at the first hurdle. Even if it was only a nap in a bar, she needed all the sleep she could get, and, if it took him acting like a pillow for her to get it, then his lunch could wait.

He amused himself for a while by watching the people at the surrounding tables and wondering what Magnum would have made of them; the guy had always had a way of putting together information about the people around him that made it fun to people-watch with him. It was one of the first things T.C. had found out about him when they had first met. Nuzo had made some wiseass comment about the sergeant who had introduced them all, and Magnum had casually mentioned he thought the guy was just tired because his girlfriend was running him ragged.

"We all just got here this morning. How do you know that?" T.C had asked, not bothering to try to hide the disbelief in his voice; this Magnum dude might be his superior, but that didn't mean he was gonna get a free pass to talk nonsense and pretend it was fact.

"It's pretty obvious really.” Magnum had gone on to point out the man had shaved quite sloppily, kept playing with his wedding ring, hadn’t shined his shoes properly. Rick and T.C. had both argued with him, as politely as they could - there was a difference between questioning intel and being outright insubordinate after all - neither of them noticing the smirk growing on Nuzo’s face.

“I’m just saying, he’s got all the signs of being a guy with a secret. The fixation with his wedding ring could mean it involves his wife.”

“Maybe they’re having a kid?”

“Why would he need to keep that a secret?”

“Maybe he’s not keeping anything a secret, man! Maybe the poor guy is just distracted.”

The door had swung open to admit the sergeant again and the briefing had started then, cutting off any further discussion. By the time the mission was over, the two Marines had realized their new SEAL friend probably hadn’t been talking crap after all. So, when they finally got back to base and heard the latest gossip involving a certain sergeant and his long-time love affair, all four of them had been able to honestly say they weren’t in the least bit surprised.

T.C. grinned a little at the memory as he wondered whether the young couple he was currently looking at were actually a couple or if the guy wanted to be one while the girl wasn’t interested. He hadn’t realized he was staring so intently at them until Rick appeared at the side of the table, setting something on the floor and dropping to the seat with a grin.

“Do I need to kick ‘em out?” he asked in a whisper to avoid disturbing the still sleeping Higgins. He paired the words with a grin, tipping his head to the side to indicate the young pair who seemed to be arguing over a picture of a pair of shoes. He returned the unamused look T.C. gave him with a grin that the other man rolled his eyes at. 

T.C. found himself looking at the thing Rick had put next to the table; a wooden highchair, stained a warm, dark brown, with light blue straps and dove gray cushions on the seat and backrest. He stared for a second, wondering how Rick could possibly know Higgins was having a boy.

"Rick, buddy, uh…" He trailed off, wondering for a second if there wasn't a second chair somewhere with pink straps just in case.

"Isn't it great? Just came in. Oh, and check this out." Rick was still talking in whispers but jumped happily out of his seat and quickly spun the highchair. 

On the back, in the same baby blue as the straps, was painted the legend 'Higgy's Baby,' and T.C. couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. He and Rick both froze as Higgins sighed and shifted, one hand coming up in a small fist to rub at her eyes as she rolled her shoulders. She seemed to realize she was at an odd angle and lifted herself upright, yawning as she did. Then she finally opened her eyes and raised her eyebrows in a look of shock, turning to T.C. and biting her lip.

“Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to trap you there.” She looked mortified, and T.C. was quick to reassure her.

“Don’t worry about it, Higgy Baby,” he said with a smile. “I’m sorry I woke you up.” 

The slightly sleepy-looking smile she gave him was ruined when she yawned again.

“I miss coffee,” she complained, making Rick and T.C. both laugh. Then she shifted her head to take in the highchair Rick was still holding. “Rick?” She took in the light blue letters, proudly proclaiming the chair to be the property of her child, and swallowed hard against the emotions that immediately surged up in her chest.

“I thought, if you wanted, we could keep it here.” Rick sounded uncharacteristically unsure of himself, not quite meeting her eyes as he spoke. “If you don’t want it, it’s cool. The company I used has a really generous returns policy.”

“Oh…” Higgins’ voice was thick with emotion, breaking over the single sound, and both men looked at her sharply, only for their faces to soften when they saw tears in her eyes and a small but genuine smile on her face. “Thank you,” she managed before the first tear slipped down her cheek. 

T.C. drew her close again, and Rick quickly moved around the table to wrap his arms around her too. If the customers were confused as to why this trio were hugging each other and crying over a baby’s chair, they didn’t care enough to comment on it. The staff tactfully kept their distance and sat new customers at the furthest tables, keeping a buffer of empty seats between their boss and his friends and any people who might care to eavesdrop on the quiet conversation the three were having.

When Higgins left, happily taking T.C. up on his offer to drive her back to the Nest, Rick left the highchair where it was, standing at the side of the booth Magnum and Higgins had ‘rented’ for client meetings. As far as he was concerned, even if ‘Magnum and Higgins, Private Investigations’ didn’t exist anymore, that table had a permanent reserved sign on it. If Higgins decided to keep on working as a P.I., then she could keep using it to talk with clients. And if she didn’t, then it would be his ohana’s table instead. Higgy’s baby was never going to have to question their place in the world; he’d make sure they always knew they had somewhere they belonged.

…

The yell that woke him sounded a little panicked, and he was on his feet before he was even fully awake. His hands were balled into fists, although he couldn’t remember telling his fingers to curl up, and his heart was racing with adrenaline that he immediately, almost instinctively, sought to control. Being sharp was one thing, but mindless panic was a fool’s course, and adrenaline left to run rampant was more of a hindrance than a help. He scanned the land beyond his pitiful little shelter- for a brief, disorienting second, he’d thought he was back in Afghanistan -half-expecting to see a tidal wave or a beached shark.

Instead, he found himself looking at a small boat as it headed toward the beach, the outboard motor kicking up a small wake as it zipped along. Three men in it, all shouting and waving like they thought they somehow hadn’t been seen by the people on the little spit of land they were approaching. While the others waved their arms and yelled and jumped up and down, frantic and joyful, Magnum found himself staring with something approaching shock.

Rescue. The word ran through his head, twisting and turning, flipping itself around and around and repeating until it lost all sense of meaning. They were being rescued. He was being rescued.

The boat ran as close as it could to the shoreline, two of the men leaping out and wading through the waves to reach the small bedraggled group. Words were being shouted, people were hugging and crying.

_ ‘I’m going home,’  _ Magnum told himself.  _ ‘I’m going home. It’s over. It’s all over. And I’m going home.’ _

…

Higgins was practically running through the corridor of the hospital, one hand on her stomach, Rick’s message playing in a loop in her mind.

_ ‘When you get this, don’t panic, okay. Nothing’s wrong, but you need to get to St. Katherine’s.’ _

“Don’t panic,” she muttered to herself, trying to hide the fear she was feeling behind anger. “Don’t panic, just get to hospital where people come to die.” She was aware of the fact that she was being melodramatic and didn’t care to stop it. She’d calm down once she finally found out what was going on. Of course, that depended on her actually finding Rick.

“Couldn’t tell me which part of the bloody hospital. That would have been too easy.” Someone gave her an odd look but she ignored them. As far as she was concerned, if someone ended their trip to the hospital waiting room thinking she was crazy, it was none of her concern.

“Jules!” 

She snapped her head to the left and saw Rick, an odd look on his face, waving her over to a chair.

“What’s going on?” she demanded as soon as she was close enough to avoid shouting the words to him.

“Have a seat…”

“No.” She fixed him with a glare, the same one that always had Richard holding his hands up and apologising for anything he might have done in the entirety of his life to offend her. She remembered, with a flash of fondness, that the same glare had usually made Magnum laugh at her. Rick, it seemed, was somewhere in between them both.

“Everything’s fine, Jules, really. I just…” He stopped, looking worried and excited and pressed his lips together for a second. “They found him, Jules. They found Tommy.”

She stared at him, both hands pressing against her stomach now, as if trying to assure the tiny life inside of her that everything was okay even though her heart was racing.

“Oh.” Her voice was tiny. “So we get to bury him.”

“No. Jules, no!” Rick grabbed her hands, pulling them away from her stomach and gripping them tight enough to hurt. “They  _ rescued _ him.”

The silence that followed those three words was deafening. Rick was struggling not to just scream at the top of his lungs, to tell the entire island that Thomas Magnum had pulled off the impossible once again. 

Higgins just stared at him, brain struggling to process the words. Rescued. He’d been rescued. To rescue someone, they have to be alive. So he was alive. He was alive and he had been rescued and he was back. And now she needed to tell him about the baby and see if she had messed everything up between them.

“They’re bringing him in now; we just need to wait. Apparently he’s dehydrated and a little banged up; they don’t want a big crowd bursting in to see him. But he’ll be here soon.” He managed to convince her to sit down, pushing her gently to the chair.

She felt a flash of annoyance, but, the instant she sat, she felt her legs trembling and realised how right Rick was to get her off her feet.

They sat in silence, watching the news playing a breaking report about the Flight 828 survivors. The names of the survivors were being withheld until the area could be thoroughly searched for bodies and other survivors. And they just waited for someone to tell them Magnum was there and that they could see him. Or they did until Higgins’ stomach rumbled loudly enough that Rick heard it.

“The canteen’s open, just down there,” he told her, pointing. “I’ll stay here in case there’s news. Go eat, Jules.” He glanced down at her belly as he spoke, and she knew he was thinking of how the baby would cope if she stayed hungry. So she went down the corridor and found herself standing in front of a chiller full of sandwiches but completely unable to focus on the labels long enough to figure out what the fillings were. 

Finally, after two different people had asked her with concern on their faces if she needed any help, she grabbed a package at random and headed to the till. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out how to tell Magnum about their baby. Did she blurt it out as soon as she walked into the room? Wait until he brought up telling everyone about their relationship? Wait until he was discharged? 

She headed back to Rick, not really noticing the upswing in activity, still desperately trying to plan out how and when she was going to tell Magnum that he was going to be a father. So when Rick reached out and grabbed her wrist, she jumped violently, the plastic wrapped sandwich falling to the floor.

“They just brought him in.” He was breathing faster than normal. “The doctor’s in with him, but he won't be long.”

He said something else, about T.C. being out with a tour, about waiting for him, but Higgins didn’t really hear it. Because the door to her left had opened and she had caught a glimpse of a face she had thought she would never see again, and the world had frozen. Her hands were suddenly by her sides without her realising Rick had let her go, and she was walking towards the door, her eyes fixed on the man sitting on the side of the bed. Behind her she could hear voices, wondered vaguely if she was meant to be listening to them. But Thomas had seen her, had stood from the bed, and she was in the room without ever taking a conscious step.

“Thomas.” She was crying. At least, her voice sounded like she was crying. She had no idea if any tears were actually falling or not. All she knew was that Thomas was alive, had pulled her into a hug that was so tight she could feel the bones of his body pressing against her, and she didn’t care if she never moved again. Her fingers were clutching the thin hospital gown he was wearing so tightly she could feel every beat of her heart in her knuckles.

She wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, clinging to each other, reassuring themselves with every breath that it was real, that they weren’t dreaming. But Magnum started to lean a little heavily on her and she pulled back, staring worriedly up at him.

“I’m okay.” He let his hands slide down to the bottom of her back, not pulling her closer, but tightening his grip a little. “I’m exhausted, but I’m okay.”

“I’m pregnant.”

The air left the room. Neither of them could breathe. Higgins wanted desperately to say something, anything, but she couldn’t think of a single word. All she could do was watch Magnum as he blinked at her in shock.

“You’re pregnant?” His voice was nothing like its normal self; it was quiet and shaky, and he had the strangest look on his face. 

Higgins had the feeling that he was trying to decide whether or not he should laugh, like he was waiting for her to yell ‘April Fools’ even though it was already June.

“Yes. I’m pregnant.” Maybe, she thought a little hysterically, if they said it often enough, it would stop feeling like a fantastically lucid dream.

“We’re gonna have a baby?”

'We.' Her heart melted. No fear, no anger. Just instant acceptance. His face had changed, looking now like he was trying to bottle something up. And his voice, still quiet, was warmer and softer than she had ever heard before.

“That’s the usual outcome, I believe.” In another time, another place, the words might have sounded sarcastic. But here and now, they were the sweetest words she had ever said.

And then she gave a small shriek as Magnum’s hands slid up to her waist and lifted her clean off the floor, swinging her around in a circle as he gave a "whoop!" of such joy and excitement that she couldn’t believe she had ever been afraid to see his reaction.

“Oh!” Magnum put Higgins back on her feet so suddenly she nearly stumbled. “Oh God! Did I hurt you? Did I hurt the baby?” His scared face eased a little as Higgins put her hand on his cheek and gave him a soft smile.

“Don’t worry,” she told him, her eyes locked on his. “Baby is pretty well-protected by mum at the moment.” She took his hand in hers and laid it on her stomach, her other hand still on his cheek, her eyes still on his. So she saw the moment tears started to build in his eyes and a blinding smile spread over his face.

“We’re gonna have a baby,” he whispered, before leaning down to kiss her.

They didn’t even hear the door click open as Rick poked his head in. He grinned at the sight before softly closing the door again and heading back to the chairs to wait for T.C. If anyone deserved a little time to just hold each other, he figured it was Thomas and Juliet.

**Author's Note:**

> Still kinda light on the whump to my mind, but there is a fun mix of physical and emotional whump which is always fun to play with! For me, anyway. Not so much fun for the characters, heh heh.


End file.
